


Silver String

by eerian_sadow



Series: Megatron/Optimus week [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Univere, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, MegOp week, MegOp week 2020, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: Every Cybertronian has a Primus-given Sparkmate, even the Prime. It's just a matter of finding them.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: Megatron/Optimus week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594138
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Silver String

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MegOp week on tumblr, filling the day 4 prompt "Soulmate AU"
> 
> posting late because sickbrain forgot about it. -_-'

Everyone had a sparkmate. Each Cybertronian was born with a sparkling thread of light binding them to another mech--sometimes one, but sometimes more--somewhere else on the planet. Sometimes those threads were thin and faded, stretched by distance or time. Sometimes those threads were bright and intense, as intended mates were close enough to see or even touch. Sometimes a mech’s thread sparkled in his mate’s colors, they were so fated to be.

Sometimes, a thread was nothing but the plainest silver, indistinguishable from the planet itself most of the time.

His thread glittered in the afternoon light, though, and Optimus knew his sparkmate was still out there somewhere. His thread hadn’t shriveled into brittle shards like Sentinel’s, who’s sparkmate had died before they had even met. But it was lonely in Iacon, when no mech from outside was even allowed into the temple to see him without others first checking to be certain his sparkmate wasn’t among the common mechs.

(Riff raff, one of the senators had called them, once, when Optimus had asked to play with some visiting younglings before he even knew what being a Prime entailed. And secretly, he hoped his sparkmate was among the “riff raff” just to spite everyone who kept trying to run his life when he was supposed to be the leader of the entire world.)

“Lord Prime, the visiting dignitaries from Kaon have arrived for their audience.” His assistant sounded as tired of the audiences with the visiting entourages as he was. Every city on the planet had sent a group of representatives for the Festival of Solus this vorn. 

“Thank you. Please fetch my sword.” Optimus turned away from the window and shifted his focus away from the silvery light that bound him to his sparkmate. “And the cloak that Ambassador Clench gifted me last vorn.”

“Of course, Lord Prime. May I also suggest your formal chain of office? This group of Kaonites seems to respect such things.”

“The gold will clash with the ambassador’s gift.” Not to mention how gaudy it would look against his red and blue plating. Silver had always been a better color, for all that the court hated his “casual” jewelry. “The silver or the titanium, I think.”

His assistant sighed. “As you wish, my lord.”

The audience chamber fell silent as he stepped into the room, and for a moment Optimus could not understand why. The Kaonites were gathered in a loose group near the center of the room, the Iaconian court and a few senators were mingling in their own cliques, and the serving bots were carrying trays of food and drink through the crowds with barely a cloak ruffled to mark their passing. The lighting was dim, the way Ambassador Clench preferred it.

Then he realized what had happened as his attendant gasped, “Lord Prime!”

His spark thread, previously dull silver-grey, was _glowing_ the brightest silver he had ever seen. And the bright light led directly to one of the mechs in the group of Kaonites. 

His sparkmate stepped away from the group slowly, and Optimus looked him over carefully. He was large--at least as large as any Prime in his lineage--and painted a muted silver that matched the color the spark thread had been before they met. His frame was a worker type, all hard angles and covered with a few scars. The stranger’s face was finely sculpted, and he might have been handsome if he wasn’t scowling.

No, he was certainly handsome even with the scowl. He might be beautiful without it, though Optimus wasn’t sure how a Kaonite would take such a compliment. 

“I have waited a thousand vorns to find my sparkmate,” the Kaonite rumbled. “I do not know if I should be flattered or insulted to discover that he is a Prime who is less than half my age.”

Optimus didn’t let himself think about the formalities that had been drilled into his processor, or good manners or anything else that would keep the court from being scandalized. Instead, he smiled at the Kaonite. “I know that I, at least, am humbled and flattered that Primus would choose a sparkmate who is both wise and attractive.”

The Kaonite stared at him or a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Well, at least I haven’t been paired with a fool! Perhaps I am looking forward to this meeting after all.”

“I know that I am, now.” Optimus felt his smile grow. “I am Optimus, but you knew that. What should I call you?”

“Megatron.” The silver mech smiled, revealing fangs that looked as sharp as the sword the Prime was carrying. “You may call me Megatron.”

“I am pleased to meet you at last, Megatron.” And he was. His sparkmate wasn’t a commoner, but a Kaonite would certainly cause the same sort of irritated stir among the senators that he had hoped for. 

And perhaps, finally, he would be allowed to make friends and his life would be less lonely.


End file.
